


Blue Eyes and Similar Smiles

by HgBird



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, First Person, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HgBird/pseuds/HgBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I don't know what was the same about us, though."</i>
</p>
<p>What color would his eyes be now, I idly wondered.<br/>Would he still have eyes?<br/>Not that it even mattered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Eyes and Similar Smiles

When I heard Virus was going in for surgery--another experiment--I wasn’t concerned for him, nor was I even that interested. Nonetheless, I stood outside the operating room the entire time. The entire time I was able. Other kids gave me a wide berth, but I wasn’t interested in them. I couldn’t see anything past his bright light. Even as he remained unconscious, eyes covered, he was still the brightest light I’d ever seen. Every detail, expression, color unmuddled.

What color would his eyes be now, I idly wondered.

Would he still have eyes?

Not that it even mattered.

 

“Trip.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it even an acknowledgement of my presence. It wasn’t anything. It was just Virus’s voice, speaking my name.

Virus was at the table, eyes bandaged from his recent surgery. We wouldn't know it was a success until the bandages came off, but I supposed it wasn't a failure if he was sitting here right now. A pile of books lay in front of him, but he couldn’t read them as he normally would. Every so often he'd touch their covers, but I didn't know why. I didn't even know what he was reading. I didn't care to look. It didn't matter.

 

Bright blue.

They were light just like him. Pure light.

I reached up to touch his face when he came back that time, but I hesitated just slightly and pulled my fingers back. I couldn't touch something so pure and not ruin it.

His lips curled downwards in what I assumed to be confusion, because his eyes showed no contempt. But that expression faded as fast as it had arrived, and perhaps I only saw it because I had been looking for it. And because I had memorized every detail of his face and every expression it was capable of making.

He turned away, and I memorized every detail of his back and how it moved as he walked away.

 

"--success--"

"...separated from--ran more trials--"

"... _two_..."

Where was I? I blinked, fading back into consciousness. My knuckles felt sore, and as I flexed my stiff fingers, I could feel the sting as flesh cracked open. It barely registered that it was only the blood, caked in the creases of my skin.

I heard the doctors murmuring to themselves. If it was more than a murmur, I didn't care to hear it. And soon enough, the sickly white of the room faded to a more familiar and welcome black.

 

Eyesight was never important to me. I didn't care if I never had to see those monstrous figures, their colors turbid mud. I didn't even care if I could never throw a punch again; I had no particular desire to fight. But the idea that I could never see Virus again was terrifying, and I could feel my body tremble. Where was I? Where's Virus? I need light. I need to see.

I felt something cold wrap around my hand, cold like ice but warm like frostbite. Another hand.

"Trip." Virus. "Well, it seems like the surgery was a success." It felt like the most he's ever said to me, even if I knew it wasn't. That's...right. If it hadn't been a success, I wouldn't be here. My fingers twitch in his, as if trying desperately to cling to him. I feel his own loosen in response, as if debating whether or not they should let go. I picture his pale and slender fingers holding my own. My own hands, scabbed at the knuckles. They’re warm to the point of feeling clammy. They were hands black and blue with bruises that could never seem to heal. Hands that were always rough and flushed from blood that pumped too strongly. I picture Virus's delicate fingers, and I think: maybe he _should_ let go.

But he didn't, and I felt the pull as he walked away. Still holding on to my hand. And as he moved, I pictured how his shoulders moved with his gait and how straight he holds himself. How his shirt wrinkles with his steps and how white it looked.

As he moved, I saw.

 

Bright blue, Virus said.

"We're together now, you and I. It would make sense for us to have the same eyes. Because we both serve the same purpose."

I heard them talking about us, telling me what this experiment was for. What I was meant to do. I couldn't hear them. It was all just noise to me.

But Virus stopped the noise, and I could hear again.

I looked at him with my new eyes. It was still just as bright as before.

"The...same." The words left my lips.

But I thought, I don't really know how.


End file.
